


slowly, then all at once

by gentle_autumn_rain



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentle_autumn_rain/pseuds/gentle_autumn_rain
Summary: It takes ten conversations for Merlin and Arthur to fall in love.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 353





	slowly, then all at once

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlymorningdarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlymorningdarkness/gifts).



> I tried to make this as accurately British as possible, but I took some liberties with the university system. Also the sexual harassment is implied and makes only a very brief appearance in the story, but I thought that I'd warn anyone who may be uncomfortable with that.
> 
> For the only person who may love Merlin more than I do.

1.

Merlin was not what you would call the athletic type – as evidenced by the two times he had tripped over nothing on his way to the pitch – and so his presence at the university club football tryouts was more in the capacity of moral support than an actual desire to play a sport, which Merlin hadn’t attempted since he was ten and a flailing elbow in a rugby match left one of his opponents trying not to cry as blood streamed from his nose.

But Lance had been talking about trying out for days, and as he was Merlin’s first friend at uni, Merlin was determined to be supportive despite his aversion to being closer than 20 feet to any type of ball. 

It didn’t hurt that a lot of the players were quite fit. Although most of them barely held a candle to the blonde, blue-eyed, straight-out-of-Merlin’s-teenage-fantasies player who stood off to the side with the current members of the team, laughing and jostling his friends. 

Merlin tried to check him out as subtly as he could, but clearly he wasn’t discreet enough, as Lance elbowed him and whispered with a grin in his voice, “You’re staring.”

“I am _not_ ,” Merlin protested automatically, although he in fact had been. “Just – go kick the ball or whatever it is you sporty types do.” 

Because Lance was a kind soul, he didn’t continue to rib Merlin but instead patted him on the shoulder and jogged over to the huddled mass of boys on the edge of the field. Merlin sat back on the bleachers and resigned himself to the arduous task of ogling a group of fit men for the next hour.

Forty-five minutes in though, and Merlin was getting _bored_. He had moved to the ground and was playing absentmindedly with the turf, which was turning the tips of his fingers black. A shout of laughter pulled him out of his daydreaming, which he thought he recognised as the hot blonde’s. When he looked up, he saw the blonde and a couple of his sniggering friends shooting at the goal, where a nervous looking first-year was positioned in front of the net. As Merlin watched, the blonde player sent a ball soaring through the air, slamming right into the goalie's stomach. From the resigned look on his face and the snickering of the players, Merlin gathered that this was not the first time this had happened.

“Come on, Todd, if you want to make the team you’re going to have to get used to this,” the blonde player called. His friend set him the next ball and he sent the next kick flying directly into the goalie’s face, who stumbled back. He looked as though he was about to cry. Merlin realised with a start that the blonde was deliberately aiming for the goalie rather than the net.

Trying to squash down the rising tide of anger, Merlin pushed himself to his feet and walked over to where the group was, not stopping until he was in the blonde’s line of sight.

“I think maybe that’s enough, mate,” he said as firmly as he could manage. 

The blonde looked at him in disbelief, then snorted and said rudely, “Mate? I’m not your mate. And I think actually that _I’m_ the one who decides when it’s enough. You can go back to…” He looked Merlin up and down, eyeing his ratty converse and faded jeans. “Scrounging around in a charity shop, from the looks of it. Didn’t your mother teach you to respect your betters?”

“She did, I just don’t happen to see any here,” Merlin snapped back. “All I see is a bully who has to be a dick to others to hide how inadequate he is as a person.”

The blonde scoffed, but Merlin could tell that he was caught off guard.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” the blonde said incredulously. “Don’t you know who I am? My family could afford to buy yours ten times over.”

“It’s unfortunate that all that money can’t buy you a better personality. Didn’t _your_ mother ever teach you to treat others the way you want to be treated?” 

Merlin thought he caught a flash of hurt in the blonde’s eyes before it was pushed down and he said sneeringly, “You have _no_ idea who you’re talking to – ”

He was cut off by one of his friends, who hissed at him, “Arthur, the coaches are coming over.”

Their altercation had caught the attention of this half of the field, and Merlin could see Lance looking at him with a what-the-fuck look on his face. A sense of guilt washed over him; he didn’t want to ruin Lance’s chance at the team, even if its members were complete dickheads. So while the blonde – _Arthur_ apparently, and what a pompous name for such a pompous douche – was distracted talking to the coaches, a charming grin plastered on his face, Merlin made his way off the field, only pausing at the net to quietly ask the goalie, “You alright, mate?”

Refusing to meet his eyes, the goalie nodded. Merlin sighed. He knew that other blokes rarely liked it when you tried to stand up for them, but he could hardly stand by and watch someone be bullied so blatantly.

As he walked off the field, he prayed to whatever higher power there may be that he would never run into Arthur-the-Arse ever again.

2.

He ran into Arthur-the-Arse again. 

“Oh come on, you again?” An irritated voice broke into Merlin’s focus on the page in front of him, and he looked up to see the gorgeous jerk from last week glaring down at him. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Merlin shot back. “I would think you’d be in the business school doing lines of cocaine and spending Daddy’s money.”

If anything, Arthur glared even harder. “This class is a pre-req for Politics and International Relations. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here, everything about you screams dead-end job at a nonprofit failing to save the world.” 

“Oh yes, it’s such a crime to care about the world,” Merlin retorted. “What, we should all be like you and run the earth into the ground for the sake of corporate profit?”

“Someone sounds bitter.”

“Well I have a right to be, with dicks like you – ”

“Ahem.”

They were interrupted by the professor, standing at the front of the classroom with his arms crossed. The rest of the class was staring at them.

“Mr. Pendragon,” the professor said, gesturing with his arm. “If you could please take a seat, I’d like to start the class.”

Arthur scowled at him one last time, then looked around to find an empty seat. He and Merlin realised at the same time that the only empty seat was at the table next to Merlin. They shot each other wide-eyed looks.

“If someone wouldn’t mind switching with me – ?”

“Sir I think it would be better if he sat – ”

“Enough!” The professor glared at them. “The two of you have delayed the class for long enough. Mr. Pendragon, _sit down._ ”

“This is all your fault,” Merlin hissed as Arthur begrudgingly slid into the seat next to him. He whispered out of the corner of his mouth, trying to avoid catching the professor’s attention from where he was droning on about the syllabus at the front of the class.

Arthur’s whisper was equally heated. “ _My_ fault? If you had just apologised – ”

“ – Apologised?! To you? If anything _you_ should say sorry for being such an arrogant pompous – ” 

“ – Oh, degrading into insults, how childish are you – ”

“ – I am not childish – ”

“ – Yeah, sticking your tongue out is really the way to prove that – ”

“ – These presentations will be worth twenty percent of your mark, and for sake of ease let’s just have you pair up with the person at your table. I’ll send out a Canvas link later and you can sign up for your presentation slot, so exchange contact information with your partner to decide what topic you’d like to present on.” 

There was a bustle of noise as people traded phones and looked over the list of topics. For the second time that day, Arthur and Merlin looked at each other with identical looks of despair.

“Fuck,” Merlin said wholeheartedly. From the grimace on Arthur’s face, he agreed entirely.

3\. 

Merlin took great pleasure in slamming down his textbook right next to Arthur’s head, which, along with the rest of his body, looked incredibly hungover.

“Agh!” Arthur yelped, clutching his forehead. His bloodshot eyes shot daggers at Merlin, who was disheartened to find that even sleep-deprived and hungover, Arthur was still incredibly attractive. “Does it really give you that much pleasure to make my life more difficult?”

“Yes,” Merlin said sweetly, giving Arthur his most saccharine smile. 

Arthur looked thrown-off for about half a second before he visibly gathered himself and said snootily, “So much for having the moral high ground.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and dignified Arthur’s taunt with one that he knew pissed Arthur off to no end. He stuck his tongue out at him.

In the two weeks since Merlin and Arthur had been assigned as partners, their relationship had not much improved. Classes were mostly spent trading barbs and insults and they had made no headway on their presentation, which was rapidly coming up. Neither had made any moves to apologise to each other – Merlin because he knew that really he had nothing to apologise for, and Arthur because he was under the same (mistaken) impression. 

Still, Merlin would be lying if he claimed that their bickering was completely unappealing. Sometimes it was almost _fun_ , although Merlin would rather take a bath with a toaster than admit that out loud. From the sly looks and pointed questions from his flatmate Gwen whenever he ranted to her about Arthur, though, it seemed that at least one person already had their suspicions.

Arthur was clearly gearing up to say something truly dickish, but before he could the professor clapped his hands and berated the class for being so loud, chastising them like they were back in primary school. Despite themselves, Merlin and Arthur shared an irritated look.

The only thing the two of them could agree on was that Professor Valiant was an even bigger asshole than either one of them. Merlin had tried not to hold the whole assigning-his-mortal-enemy-as-his-partner thing against him, but he quickly found that there were a multitude of other reasons not to like Valiant. He was curt and insensitive, and treated his male students like children and was somewhat creepy towards his female students. He constantly changed assignments and due dates and gave higher marks to those who agreed with everything he said or that he particularly liked, which generally happened to be the same people. Merlin hated him with a burning passion.

As Valiant droned on about youth culture and social movements – an edge of disdain clear in his voice – Merlin focused his attention on doodling on his notebook page. He was capturing a pretty good likeness of Valiant, if he did say so himself – the almost malicious set of his brow, the faint smugness permanently resting about his lips. Merlin perhaps took a little artistic liberties with the drawing, but he was so proud of it that he forgot himself and nudged Arthur, angling the paper so that he could see. 

Arthur flicked his eyes to the page and let out an unmanly snort, which he instantly tried to cover with a cough. Feeling a strange sense of warmth, Merlin smiled down at the page. 

Later during the class, while Merlin was staring out the window, contemplating if he should go for Italian or Indian for dinner, Arthur reached over and quickly snapped Merlin’s notebook shut, covering the drawing. Merlin was about to protest when Professor Valiant stopped in front of their table, holding their most recent quizzes in his hands.

“I know you may be relying on your parents’ fame and wealth to get you through life, Mr. Pendragon, but I suggest spending a little more time studying and a little less time partying,” Valiant sneered. “I can’t imagine your father would be impressed with such...inadequate grades.” He spoke loudly enough that the entire class could hear, and his customary smug look made Merlin want to punch him in the face.

Arthur flinched, snatching back the quiz and shoving it into his bag without looking at it. His face was turning red, and Merlin could see his hands clenching into fists underneath the desk. 

Maybe it was because Merlin had never seen Arthur so cowed, or maybe it was the build up of several weeks of dealing with such an incapable professor, but Merlin found himself blurting out, “Well maybe if you were actually a competent teacher who didn’t have to read from the textbook, we would all actually learn something. Don’t blame students for your inability to teach.”

There was a moment of silence in which everyone stared at Merlin, including Arthur, who looked stunned, before Valiant responded in a dangerous tone, “ _Excuse me?_ ”

Merlin was not quite brave enough to say it again, but he lifted his chin defiantly and crossed his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur looking at him with something close to awe on his face. There was no trace of that admiration in Valiant’s stormy expression.

“I do not have to put up with this kind of disrespect from a child who seems to think he can do better at my job than me. You may leave, Mr. Emrys, and come back next week only if you are ready to behave like an adult. I’ll be reporting this incident to the dean.”

Instead of arguing like Merlin suspected Valiant wanted him to, Merlin swept his belongings into his bag and walked out of the classroom, looking straight ahead rather than at the dozens of eyes trained on him. Despite his loss of temper, he was not actually too much of a teenager to actually slam the door on his way out, but it was a close thing. He stomped, fuming, out of the building. _What a fucking arse._

He was surprised to hear footsteps behind him, and whirled around to find Arthur following him, an awkward look crossing his face as he was caught.

“Was there something you wanted?” Merlin demanded after the silence stretched on for a few moments. He was so not in the mood to be lectured by Arthur, of all people, especially after Merlin had stood up for him.

Arthur bristled, but took a deep breath and astounded Merlin by saying, “I wanted to say – thank you. For saying that. That was pretty decent of you.”

Merlin could only nod, blinking rapidly. He had expected Arthur to be a dick about this, as he was about everything else, or at the very least not acknowledge it like the goalie from football tryouts. 

When Merlin didn’t respond, Arthur shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and finally jerked his thumb behind him. “So, yeah. That’s all I wanted to say. I’m, er, going to go back to class now.”

Merlin nodded again, and watched with no small amount of astonishment as Arthur turned and walked back the other way. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

4.

“You’re joking, right? You can’t honestly say you’d rather live in a world where fascist dictatorships are constantly on the rise and every planet looks like a desert – ”

“Okay, that has nothing to do with the actual stories and characters! You just can’t beat Han Solo – ”

“Have you _seen_ the new movies? There’s better storytelling in one episode of _Star Trek_ than in those entire three movies – ”

“I’ll give you that the sequels are lacking compared to the originals, but you also can’t pretend that _Star Trek_ didn’t have its bad episodes or series, you saw ‘Spock’s Brain’ – ”

“But _overall_ you can’t beat _Star Trek’s_ message of hope and optimism and the belief in the goodness of humanity – ”

“What are you even talking about, the first _Star Wars_ movie is literally called ‘A New Hope’ – ”

Merlin was so impassioned that he leaned forward and nearly fell out of his chair, cutting off his argument mid-sentence.

“Okay, okay,” Arthur said, laughing. “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree then.”

“Fine,” Merlin grumbled, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. There was still a part of him that wanted to shake Arthur until he saw things his way, but he also recognised that a very large part of his nostalgia for _Star Wars_ came from his raging crush on Harrison Ford.

It was strange; he and Arthur hadn’t stopped arguing per se, but their arguments had become a lot less heated and a lot more friendly. He couldn’t imagine the Merlin and Arthur of a month ago having a passionate argument about the virtues of different science fiction franchises without devolving into violence, but here they were.

“Crisp?” Arthur offered, holding out the bag. Merlin reached in the bag and grabbed a handful, shoving it into his mouth.

“I had no idea you were such a sci-fi nerd,” Merlin teased through a mouthful of crisps. Arthur looked vaguely disgusted. “You seem like the type to watch something violent like _Game of Thrones_ rather than anything so hippy-dippy as _Star Trek_.”

Arthur made a face, but shrugged. “I just – like believing in a better future, where people can actually try and help others rather than killing each other or struggling to survive. And I’ve always liked the idea of going off and exploring new planets. Besides,” He looked down at his hands, looking somewhat embarrassed. “It was mine and my father’s show. We used to watch it every week.”

Arthur rarely mentioned his family, but Merlin knew enough about them from surreptitious Google searches and the tantalizingly few clues that Arthur had dropped to know that his relationship with his father was strained at best.

“Fair enough,” Merlin said, after a moment. “But I _am_ making you watch the original trilogy with me sometime. I’m going to make you see how wrong you are about it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he looked tentatively pleased. “If you insist. Should we actually, I don’t know, work on our project?”

“Ah. Right.” Merlin picked up his phone to check the time and was surprised to see that they had been hanging out for well over two hours. They had started with creating the PowerPoint for their presentation, but they had quickly become distracted with discussions of pop culture. To be fair, their presentation wasn’t until next week. They’d have plenty of time to work on it later.

“I mean, we always have the weekend, and I do happen to have all three movies downloaded on my laptop…”

He peered hopefully at Arthur, doing his best puppy-dog face. Arthur had opened his mouth to object, but he met Merlin’s pleading eyes and immediately cracked. “Oh fine, it’s not like I’m doing well in that class anyways.”

Arthur threw their notes haphazardly in a pile on the desk while Merlin grabbed his laptop, and the two of them situated themselves against the wall, feet dangling over the edge of the bed. Their arms were brushing each other.

As the opening text scrolled across the screen, Merlin squirmed around so that he was more comfortable, inadvertently pressing his arm much closer to Arthur’s. Merlin saw Arthur glance over at him, but to his quiet delight, Arthur didn’t say anything.

5.

Arthur and Merlin wore matching grins on their faces as Lance turned back to face them, his eyes reluctantly pulling away from watching Gwen walk up to the bar.

“What?” he asked, as if he were completely oblivious to the lovestruck looks he’d been sending Gwen all night.

“So,” Merlin could barely keep the smile out of his voice. “Do I get to be the best man at your wedding?”

“Please,” Arthur scoffed. “ _I_ get to be his best man. You’ll be Gwen’s maid of honor. Or man of honor.”

“Do you think they’re more of a church or outdoor type for the ceremony?”

“Neither. I’m picturing a beach at sunset with white doves flying out as they say their vows.”

“ _Stop,_ ” Lance said, his face a charming shade of red. “I don’t even know if she likes me.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows in disbelief, sharing an incredulous look with Arthur. “Trust me, mate, she’s interested.”

“But why on earth would she be? She’s so kind and smart! She’s volunteering for the animal shelter! Not to mention she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s so out of my league.” Lance covered his face with his hands. “She would never go out with someone like me.”

“Yeah, I hear women really hate fit, smart men headed for a noble career in environmental law.” Arthur’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“You think I’m fit?” Lance peered through the gaps in his fingers. Merlin leaned forward, interested in Arthur’s answer despite himself.

Arthur gave him a _no shit_ face. “Of course, I’m not blind. But seriously, she’s been looking at you the same way you’ve been looking at her all night. She is definitely interested in you. Now go up and ask her out before Merlin and I die from the sexual tension.”

Lance muttered something that sounded a lot like _you’re one to talk_ , but he squared his shoulders and got up from the table, heading to the bar where Gwen was ordering their next round of drinks. She smiled shyly as he tapped her on the shoulder, her whole face lighting up.

“I know we were joking earlier, but it really wouldn’t surprise me if they’re engaged by the end of the week.” Arthur eyed the couple speculatively. Merlin gazed at his side profile, mind spinning.

“Yeah, me neither,” Merlin said belatedly, still wondering what it meant that Arthur found Lance fit and if Arthur found Merlin fit and if Arthur was even attracted to men in the first place. If it had been anyone but Lance, Merlin would feel he had good reason to question Arthur’s sexuality, but Lance was the kind of human who made everyone fall in love with him, regardless of who they were attracted to. 

“So, did you ever end up finishing that philosophy paper?” Arthur asked, turning his attention back towards Merlin and stretching his arms above his head. When they came down, one ended up resting along the back of the booth behind Merlin. Merlin tried very hard not to read too much into that. 

His hand came up to scratch the back of his head as he considered the question. “What does it mean to truly _finish_ something? Are we ever truly done, or is there always more we could improve? Is it even for me to say that something is ‘done’?” 

Arthur was laughing at him. “So I guess that’s a no, then. When’s it due again?”

“Er…” Tomorrow morning, but Merlin felt that it wouldn’t be in his best interest to say that.

Arthur must have read something in his face though, because he used his arm lying above Merlin to grab him in a headlock, rubbing his other fist vigorously through his hair.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Merlin cried out, although it didn’t hurt too much. His dignity was bruised more than anything else. “Get off me, you brute!”

“Maybe this will teach you to actually do your work instead of slacking off at a pub!” Arthur said. “Honestly, do I need to bully you into doing all your assignments?” He finally released Merlin, drawing back with a grin. Merlin glared at him as he reached his hand up to fix his hair.

“No.” _Maybe._ “I am perfectly capable of getting my assignments done myself.”

“Sure, Merlin.” Arthur moved to get up. “I’m going to run to the loo. Wait – let me fix that for you, you look ridiculous.” 

Merlin automatically flinched back as Arthur’s hand came towards his head. Arthur rolled his eyes and reached his hand out again, but his touch was gentle when he used his fingers to tame Merlin’s strands of hair. Merlin froze, his heart rabbiting in his chest.

“There you go, now you only look half as crazy as you are.” Arthur withdrew his hand and slid out from the table, making his way to the toilets at the back of the pub, leaving Merlin staring after him. 

As Merlin watched, Arthur caught a girl as she slipped on a spilled puddle of beer, righting her gently and accepting her thanks with a smile. It always hurt Merlin’s chest a little to see Arthur be a good person.

He couldn’t shake the memory of Arthur’s fingers in his hair, and he sighed as he leaned back in the booth, tilting his head upwards.

 _Fuck_.

6.

 **Lance:** I think something’s wrong with Arthur.

 **Merlin:** What? What do you mean?

 **Lance:** He’s been in a really foul mood all day, but he won’t tell anyone what’s set him off. 

**Merlin:** Yeah, sounds like Arthur.

 **Lance:** I don’t know though, I think he’s really upset about something.

 **Merlin:** I’ll figure it out. Thanks Lance.

Merlin sighed as he shoved his phone in his pocket, giving one last longing look to his paused video game before pushing himself to his feet and heading out of his flat. Football practice had finished about half an hour ago, and Merlin knew that Arthur liked to go back to his room and shower afterwards.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at Arthur. He knew that Arthur was not the most emotionally intelligent person out there, but it would be nice if he could learn not to take out his anger on other people so often. Merlin had been on the receiving end of that several times, and it wasn’t a pleasant place to be.

As he approached Arthur’s familiar door, he took a deep breath to try and calm his frustration, then raised his hand to knock firmly. He waited a moment, and when there was no response, he knocked again, this time raising his voice and calling, “Arthur? It’s Merlin.”

He thought he could hear movement inside, and felt irritation flare up. He pounded at the door. “I can hear you in there, you know. Could you just open the door, please? Lance told me that you’ve been acting like a right git all day.”

There was no response. 

“Arthur, stop being an arse and just answer the damn door – ”

He was cut off by the sound of the doorknob turning, and he was opening his mouth to complain about how long that took before the sight of Arthur’s face stopped the words in his throat.

Arthur’s face was pale and haggard, his mouth drawn tight and his shoulders hunched. Merlin was startled to note that his eyes were red, as though he had been crying. Merlin had never seen Arthur cry.

“What’s wrong with you?” his mouth blurted out without his brain’s permission. 

If possible, Arthur drew his mouth even tighter. “Nothing. Go away.” He moved to close the door, but was prevented from shutting it by Merlin’s foot.

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I heard that you were having a bad day, and Lance said you seemed upset, and I just wanted to check on you.” Merlin was aware that he was rambling, but couldn’t do anything to stop it. “Can I please come in?”

Arthur seemed to weigh the pros and cons for a moment before turning around and muttering, “Whatever.”

Merlin followed Arthur into his flat to the living room, where hockey was playing on the telly. Merlin didn’t even think Arthur liked hockey.

Arthur slumped down onto the sofa, refusing to look at Merlin, and Merlin perched uncertainly on the armchair. An awkward silence descended on the room, broken only occasionally by the commentators’ remarks on the hockey match.

Merlin was debating how best to break it when Arthur said quietly, “Today’s my birthday.”

“Oh,” Merlin said, when nothing else seemed forthcoming. “And that’s...bad?”

Arthur seemed to withdraw even further into himself, still stubbornly keeping his eyes trained on the hockey players. Feeling like he had somehow made a misstep, Merlin took a chance and got up to sit next to Arthur on the sofa. He reached for the remote and turned the telly off.

“Arthur,” Merlin said gently. It seemed to be enough to prompt Arthur into talking.

“My mother died on my birthday.” Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. He had known of course that Arthur’s mum had died in childbirth, but he hadn’t made the connection between that and Arthur’s birthday. His hands made an abortive movement to reach out, but Arthur failed to notice, eyes fixed on his hands twisting in his lap. “It usually isn’t so bad. We’ll have a nice dinner at home and Father will try to be happy for me, and I’ll get loads of nice messages from people on social media. It’s just that this year is the twentieth anniversary. So. It’s just. Harder. This year.”

Arthur’s mouth was twisted with displeasure at this display of emotion, but all Merlin could think was how Arthur had to put on a brave face for a public who still mourned the loss of a beloved actress, how he had to deal not only with his own grief but his father’s grief as well, and most significantly, how he hid this grief from others every year. Every time Merlin thought he found the boundaries of Arthur’s courage, he learned something new that made him reevaluate.

He was trying to avoid empty condolences, but Merlin surprised himself when he responded, “I never actually knew my father.” 

Arthur’s eyes jumped to him, but he didn’t say anything, an invitation for Merlin to keep talking.

“Don’t get me wrong, my mum was always more than enough. But sometimes it felt like I was missing a piece, and I couldn’t help but think about how different my life would be if he had stayed. Mum said that he had to go, she wouldn’t let him give up his career for her, but he never actually managed to make it back. He was a researcher in the Arctic,” Merlin explained. “But I guess something went wrong with his ship one day, and...I never got to meet him.

“My mum would tell me stories about him, so I always felt like I knew him in a strange way, but also not, you know? I knew him as an idea, but not as a person. I was always a bit angry at him for leaving, even though I knew it wasn’t fair. But none of it’s really fair. It’s the kind of thing you have to carry with you, everywhere you go. And some days it’s heavier than others, but somewhere in the back of your mind you’re always kind of aware of it.”

He darted a glance at Arthur, whose hands had stilled as Merlin had spoken, worried that Arthur would think Merlin was making the conversation about him rather than trying to show Arthur he wasn’t alone. Arthur had been nodding faintly along, and he let out a gusty sigh when Merlin had finished speaking, as if he was releasing some great weight.

“My father never really told me any stories,” he said, gaze far-off. “I think it was too painful for him. Sometimes, when he looked at me, I swear, all he saw was my mother. So a lot of the stories I heard were from the papers or strangers, just really impersonal. Except for my tutor, Gaius. He knew my mother really well, and sometimes he’d tell me little things about her, like her favorite colour was yellow, or she used to have a little kitten named Snowball. Stuff like that. I always liked when he said that I reminded him of her, though. It wasn’t the same way that my father said it, like it was painful. I always felt proud when Gaius said it. It made me feel like a piece of her was living on in me.”

Feeling brave, Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I didn’t know your mother.” Merlin met Arthur’s gaze. “But from what I hear, she was always generous and kind hearted. She must have been, for people to care so much about her. And I do see a lot of that in you.” 

Arthur’s eyes widened, and Merlin added hastily, “That is, when you’re not being an arrogant clotpole, which is like 90% of the time.”

That managed to startle a laugh out of Arthur. “ _Clotpole?_ What kind of word is that?”

“What, you want a definition?”

“Yeah, let’s hear it.”

“Hmm.” Merlin pretended to think. “If I had to sum it up in two words? Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur snorted, shoving at Merlin’s shoulder, but his eyes were warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

Merlin grinned back at him, and the two of them fell into companionable silence. After a few moments, Arthur reached for the remote and turned the telly back on, flipping through the channels until he found _The Great British Bake-Off._ Outside, the sky darkened and shadows soon spread across the living room floor, but it seemed inconsequential compared to the warmth glowing inside of Merlin.

7.

The music was loud and the house was crowded, but pressed up against Arthur’s side as they leaned against the wall, Merlin couldn’t feel anything but content. 

“Your sister is bloody terrifying,” he shouted into Arthur’s ear, which was unnecessary if the way Arthur flinched back was any indication.

“Morgana lives to make my life difficult,” Arthur responded at a much more measured volume. “She absolutely tormented me growing up.”

Because he knew Arthur, Merlin raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh fine,” Arthur said with a somewhat sheepish grin. “We tormented each other.” Despite his words, his tone was fond.

Merlin had met Morgana only earlier that night. As they had walked through the front door of a charming brownstone, a gorgeous dark-haired woman had immediately accosted them, exclaiming, “You must be Merlin! I’ve heard an awful lot about you.”

As she said it, she had shot a sly glance at Arthur, who had hastily cleared his throat and said, “Merlin, this is my half-sister, Morgana. Don’t trust anything she says about me, she’s a dirty rotten liar.”

“Oh please, just because you don’t like what I say doesn’t make me a liar,” she had responded as she shook Merlin’s hand. From the way Morgana had shot him a wink, Merlin could tell instantly that he was going to like her. 

This was confirmed when she had looped her arm around his and tugged him towards the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, “Come, Merlin, let me get you a drink and tell you about when we were thirteen and Arthur broke the neighbor’s window.”

The sound of Arthur’s sputtering had followed them all the way into the kitchen.

Two hours and countless shots later (well, _someone_ could probably count them, but that someone was not Merlin), Merlin was significantly drunker and significantly warmer, the latter of which had to do with being so close to Arthur, who had been sipping at the same beer the entire night.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” Merlin dropped one conversational thread and picked up another. “This is supposed to be a party.” He frowned at Arthur.

“Someone has to keep you from making a fool of yourself,” Arthur said.

Merlin gasped in outrage. “How _dare_ you, I never make a fool of myself.”

Arthur’s expression said that he had ten different stories that could prove the dishonesty of that statement. “Merlin, you make a fool of yourself when you’re sober. Drunk you is about ten times worse, which I didn’t even think was possible.”

Merlin pushed away from the wall so he could face Arthur. “Excuse you, I am 100% sober.” The way he listed to the side as he spoke didn’t really help his case, but he still felt like he had won when Arthur jerked forward to grab him, one hand on Merlin’s waist and the other steadying him on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Merlin’s eyes had slipped close, so he couldn’t see it, but he could tell Arthur was rolling his eyes at him.

“Merlin!”

Arthur shook his shoulder, and Merlin opened his eyes to realise that he was back against the wall, this time leaning heavily against Arthur, who still had his arm wrapped around Merlin’s waist.

“Oh, sorry,” Merlin said, not feeling sorry at all. He made no move to pull away, and Arthur seemed to decide that it was better if Merlin didn’t try to stand on his own.

“My god, you are a useless drunk,” Arthur grumbled half-heartedly, but his arm tightened as Merlin pitched forward a little bit, his face landing in the crook of Arthur’s neck.

The way that Arthur shifted to better accommodate him, even as he complained about it, made gratitude well up inside Merlin.

“You’re a, a, a good friend, Arthur.” His words came out kind of muffled, as he was still pressed against Arthur’s shoulder. 

“You’re just worried I’ll abandon my designated driver duties.”

“Nooo.” Merlin flailed his arms until they found purchase on Arthur’s shoulders and pushed himself up so that he could see Arthur’s face. “You’re too much of a good person,” he said, poking Arthur’s frown. “You would never leave me.”

Feeling tired again, he let his face collapse back into Arthur’s shoulder, nearly missing Arthur murmur back, “Yeah, probably.”

Even in his inebriated state, he felt his heart rate pick up. “Arthur,” he began, but was cut off by someone wolf-whistling.

“Get a room, lovebirds!” Morgana’s cheerful voice called out. Merlin was about to flip her the bird when he felt Arthur stiffen, and suddenly he was being pushed away and propped up against the wall, Arthur turning and shoving through the crowd to get away. 

Merlin watched him go with something heavy sitting in his stomach. He suddenly felt as though he might be sick.

He let his eyes close and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, head tipped back. The pounding of the music, which had seemed so enticing and full of possibility before, was now giving him a headache.

What could have been hours but was likely only minutes later, a cool hand gently touched his cheek and Gwen’s familiar voice filtered through the noise.

“Merlin, are you alright?” He forced his eyes open so that he could look at her and give her a shaky smile and nod. She didn’t look too convinced, concern showing in her voice. “Oh, sweetheart. Can you just stay here for a moment? I’m going to go get you some water.”

He bobbed his head up and down to show that he understood, and she was gone. He tried to keep his eyes open this time, letting them wander aimlessly over the crowd before he made eye contact with a handsome man in the corner, who seemed to take it as an invitation. He made his way over before stopping to crouch down in front of Merlin.

“How you doing, love?” The man asked. “Need a ride home?”

Merlin started nodding, desperately wanting to go to bed, but then he remembered that he was waiting for someone. Gwen, maybe. He changed his course mid-nod so that he was shaking his head.

“I’m waiting for a friend.” Even he could hear the slur in his voice. 

“It’s okay, we can let them know later.” The man gripped his arms and tugged him up effortlessly, and Merlin was abruptly aware that this was a stranger and that he was very, very drunk. 

“Uh, no.” Merlin twisted his arms out of the man’s hands. “I don’t want to go – I don’t want to go with you.”

“What, you think I’d do anything?” The man said it teasingly, as though it was so far outside the realm of possibility that Merlin was ridiculous for even insinuating it. “C’mon mate, I’ll make sure you get back – ”

“Excuse me.” A wave of relief washed over Merlin as he spotted Arthur standing behind the stranger’s shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and a dark look on his face. “I think you’d better listen to him.”

The man released Merlin, leaving him off balance, and turned to face Arthur. “Look mate, I was just trying to help him out here, no hard feelings. He’s completely wasted, this one, needs to learn to hold his drink better – ”

Arthur punched the man in the face, sending him to the floor. Merlin stumbled back, startled, but Arthur grabbed his arm and towed him towards the front door, telling a wide-eyed Gwen, “I’ve got it from here, I’ll take him home.”

“You punched him,” Merlin said into the cool night air, feeling like this was very important.

“He was a dick,” Arthur said shortly, still pulling Merlin along behind him, his fingers uncomfortably tight around Merlin’s arm.

Merlin tried to tug his arm back. “Arthur, Arthur, slow down. You’re hurting me.” 

At his words, Arthur quickly let go and stopped in his tracks. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Merlin rubbed at his arm. He felt a lot more sober than he had been only five minutes ago.

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, pulling out his phone to call an Uber. “Let’s get you home.”

The ride back was silent and tense, although Merlin had not regained enough of his cognitive faculties to understand or even care why. He leaned his head against the window and watched as rows of houses passed by until they pulled up to his building. 

Arthur walked him all the way up the stairs to Merlin’s door, but seemed reluctant to actually cross the threshold inside. He stood with his hands jammed in his pockets, watching as Merlin unlocked the door and stepped inside. 

“Well. Goodnight,” Merlin said, leaning against the doorframe. Arthur visibly hesitated. “I’ll be fine Arthur, I’m just going to get a glass of water and go to bed.”

Arthur nodded slowly. “Goodnight, then.” His voice was clipped. He turned and marched back down the stairs, leaving Merlin to watch his retreating back. He allowed himself just a second to lean his head against the door and close his eyes, letting the hurt and confusion well up until it was almost too much to bear. Then he opened his eyes and straightened, and he stepped backwards into his flat, shutting the door behind him.

8.

When Merlin had first heard that Arthur was bringing his new girlfriend to the pub, he had vowed to himself that he would be perfectly polite and cordial to her. After all, it wasn’t her fault that Merlin felt – the way he did. And he and Arthur were friends, even though it hadn’t really felt that way since the night of the party. But still – he would try to be supportive.

This was proving much more difficult than he had anticipated.

Vivian was blonde and beautiful, and Merlin was sure she and Arthur would have gorgeous babies that the press would go crazy over.

She also happened to be absolutely terrible.

During the first round of drinks, she snapped orders at the server and gave him no word of thanks. When the second round came, she was arguing with a taken-aback Lance that Brexit really was the best thing for the country. By the third round, it had become clear that she was not the type of person that any of them could get along with. She was unbearably smug and showed little interest in their lives, despite the fact that she was meeting them for the first time. More than once, she turned her nose up at anecdotes or conversations that made it clear how painfully lower-middle class Arthur’s friends were. She reminded Merlin uncomfortably of Arthur when they had first met.

Arthur seemed ill at ease with her behaviour, but he did nothing to tell her off or apologise for her, even though she was treating his friends awfully. Lance and Gwen tried as best as they could to keep the conversation flowing, but it was undeniably awkward. Gwaine seemed to take pleasure in giving Vivian backhanded compliments that she couldn’t quite tell were backhanded. 

It had been bearable when her snarky comments targeted Merlin – although Merlin kept replaying how Arthur’s eyes remained firmly fixed on the table as Arthur said nothing to defend him – but when she snapped something at Gwen, Merlin felt his temper fray.

“Yeah, okay, no,” he said, glaring at her. “You don’t get to treat my friends like that.”

Vivian sneered at him. “Don’t be so sensitive, Melvin, it was only a joke.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” he snapped back. “So unless you can be a normal human being, you can go right on and leave.” He motioned with his hand for her to leave, and for a moment she made no move, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “I wasn’t kidding, you can leave. You’re rude and nasty, and no one wants you here.”

Her mouth dropped open in indignation, but she flipped her hair back over her shoulder and stood up. “Whatever. I have much better things to do than hang out with a group of people who think drinking cheap beer is the height of culture. It’s true what they say about poor people having the worst manners.” 

Vivian turned and flounced away, leaving Arthur to scramble after her. Merlin let out a shaky breath as they left.

Gwen placed her hand on top of his, which was clenched into a fist on the table. For a moment, Merlin was worried that she’d tell him off, but all she said was, “You didn’t have to do that, Merlin. But thank you.”

He turned his hand over so that he could squeeze hers. “She doesn’t get to speak to you like that.”

Lance and Gwaine forestalled any continuation of the conversation when they arrived back at the table, carrying the group’s fourth round. 

“Where’d the princess and the witch get to?” Gwaine asked as he flopped down. Lance sat next to Gwen and put his arm around her.

“Oh, Vivian had to leave, I think,” Gwen said airily, and deftly changed the subject before they could ask questions. “Merlin, there’s this bloke in my class who I really think you’d like. He speaks four languages, he volunteers at the children’s library, and he’s studying marine biology. Plus, he plays rugby on the weekend, so he’s very fit.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Merlin laughed. He sounded perfect – almost too perfect – and Merlin was tempted, but he didn’t think it would be fair to start dating someone when he was trying to get over someone else. “Thanks Gwen, but I don’t need you to set me up. I can get my own dates.”

“Merlin,” she whined, pouting at him. “I don’t think you understand _just_ how fit he is.”

“I’ve met him, and I think you guys would be really good together,” Lance put in.

“Yeah mate, and when’s the last time you got your own date anyways?” Gwaine teased.

“Hey!” It hadn’t been that long. A few months, maybe longer. “And when did this become gang up on Merlin time? We have to have more interesting things to discuss than my love life. Gwen, how’s that research position coming?”

Gwen shook her head at him, but obliged in the subject change. They were in the midst of discussing Gwen’s internship when Arthur slunk back into the booth.

“I thought you left with Vivian?” Lance said. 

“Ah, no.” Merlin couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, or if Arthur was deliberately refusing to look at him. “She had an event she had to go to, so I just walked her out.”

“Well you certainly took your time.” Gwaine elbowed him suggestively. Arthur snorted but did nothing to dispute it.

“So you’re really not going to apologise for her?” Merlin asked Arthur in an undertone as the conversation resumed around them. 

“She was out of line,” Arthur muttered back. “But you weren’t exactly being fair to her either. You were really rude to her. Not just at the end, the whole night. I was hoping you’d give her a chance.”

For a moment, Merlin was speechless. _He’s really going to take her side, isn’t he?_ he thought furiously. _He’s going to keep dating her, even if she keeps being awful and rude to us, because she’s beautiful and he has something to prove._

His face felt hot. “I see. Well, I’m very sorry to be so rude to your girlfriend.”

“Merlin – ”

“Gwen,” Merlin cut into the conversation, not caring that he was interrupting the middle of Gwaine’s story. “Actually, I think I will take that guy’s number.”

“Oh. Oh!” Gwen said, eyes darting between Merlin and Arthur. “Sure, I’ll text you his contact info.”

Merlin could feel Arthur’s gaze on the side of his face, but he refused to turn to look at him. “Brilliant. He better be as fit as you say he is.”

“Oh don’t worry, he is.” She smirked at him. “You’ll never doubt my matchmaking skills again.”

In lieu of saying anything, he raised his glass towards her and took a long swallow. As Gwaine resumed his story, Merlin told himself that there was absolutely nothing he needed to feel guilty for, even as Arthur muttered some excuse and left the table. He had done nothing wrong. He was allowed to date whoever he wanted, and besides, _Arthur_ was the one who started dating someone first – well, it didn’t matter anyway. There was nothing between Merlin and Arthur, and there never would be.

9.

“Merlin!”

“What – Arthur, what are you doing here? How did you even get into my flat?”

“Gwen let me in, but that’s not important – Merlin, don’t go on that date.”

“...What?”

“Listen, I’ve been stupid and blind and I can explain, but please, just don’t go out with that guy.”

“What, so you’re allowed to date but I’m not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go out with someone who’s fit and smart and actually interested in me – ”

“Because you should be going out with me.”

“...What did you say?”

“I want you to go out with me.”

“But...aren’t you with Vivian?”

“No, not anymore. I broke up with her. I was never really into her, I was trying to get over someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“You, Merlin.”

“Me?”

“You can’t honestly tell me that you’re surprised by this.”

“I don’t even know what _this_ is. Look, Arthur, this is all kind of a lot and I’m not entirely convinced that I’m not hallucinating this right now, but I’m meeting Noah in twenty minutes, so can we just talk about this later?”

“No, Merlin, you don’t understand. I was with Vivian because I was trying to get over my feelings for you – I tried to find someone who was so _not_ you so I could try to make those feelings go away, but, well, it didn’t work. You were just too...you.”

“What – what does that even mean, Arthur? You have – feelings for me, but you want to get rid of them? You made it perfectly clear that you don’t want to be with me. Do you know how it felt when you ran away that night at the party at just the _suggestion_ that we were together?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I do want to be with you, Merlin, I was just – scared. I’d never felt that way about someone before. I’ve never been in love before.”

“...You’re in love with me?”

“I think from the moment I met you.”

“Even though I insulted you?”

“Especially because you insulted me. No one had really stood up to me like that before, and all I could think was ‘this guy is a dick, but fuck he’s cute.’ And everything that’s happened since then has just sort of – mmph!”

“...”

“...Ah.”

“I love you too, you know.”

“Even though I’m an arrogant, pompous dollophead?”

“Maybe even especially because you are.”

“God, Merlin, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this – ”

“So do it – ”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...So you’re not going on that date, right?”

“Oh, shit, yeah, I should probably let him know. And there’s no need to look so damn smug. At least _he_ didn’t ask me out just because someone else did first.”

“Don’t be stupid, you know that’s not why I asked you out.”

“But remind me again?”

“Do I really have to? You know how I am about feelings. Oh, don’t make that face at me. Fine! It’s because I love you, alright?”

“Yeah, that’s alright.”

10.

Merlin tried his best to nod along to Elyan’s anecdote, but he had lost track of the who and the what and the where long ago, distracted by Arthur’s head on his lap and the feeling of Arthur’s hair as he carded his fingers through golden locks. His other hand rested on Arthur’s chest, their hands intertwined. Arthur seemed content to doze on Merlin’s lap, eyes closed and breathing steady. He had returned from a trip abroad with his father earlier that day, and although he had greeted Merlin enthusiastically at the airport after a week apart (a little too enthusiastically, if Uther’s grimace was any indication), his energy had waned almost as soon as they had arrived at the gathering at Gwen and Lance’s flat. Merlin was only too happy to be his boyfriend’s pillow.

Perhaps Elyan could tell that Merlin was not entirely focused on the conversation (it had been a long day), because he soon excused himself and wandered off to grab another drink, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone on the sofa.

Merlin turned his full attention down to Arthur, trailing his finger down the bridge of Arthur’s nose and across his cheekbones. Arthur let out a hum of approval, blinking his eyes open. Merlin smiled down at him. 

“Tired, love?” he asked, rubbing the back of Arthur’s hand with his thumb. “We can go home, if you like.”

Arthur’s eyes were affectionate. “Yeah, alright,” he said, after a moment. He sat up, skillfully pushing Merlin’s face aside so he didn’t headbutt him in the nose, and pushed himself to his feet with a groan. “Let me just go give Morgana money for my father’s gift.” 

Arthur leaned down to press a kiss to Merlin’s cheek, then walked over to where Morgana was standing in the kitchen, talking with Leon.

“You two are so sweet,” Gwen said, plopping down next to Merlin, the wine in her glass tipping dangerously. “I never really pegged you as the PDA types, but now that I’m seeing it, it totally makes sense.”

“Yeah, you two are a little bit disgusting,” Elena chimed in, leaning up against the back of the sofa. “But, like, in a way where it makes all of us single people super jealous because we can tell that you’re super in love.”

Merlin tried to scoff, but it was betrayed by the way he couldn’t stop grinning down at his hands. He felt inexplicably bashful. They had only been going out for a couple months, but already it felt like this was a forever sort of thing. 

“And look at you, blushing!” Gwen squealed. “You are too cute, Merlin.”

“Don’t go giving him a bigger head than he already has.” Arthur sounded amused as he came around the sofa to stand in front of them. “His ears already make it difficult enough to get through the front door.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out at him. “You love my ears.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to dispute it, which made Merlin’s insides feel all fuzzy. Even though Arthur had told him that he’d fancied Merlin for months, it still made him feel elated to hear confirmation of it. 

Arthur scooped up Merlin’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “Up you go then.”

Merlin let himself overbalance a little bit as he stood, using the momentum to drop a kiss on Arthur’s lips. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, leaning forward to kiss Merlin again. “Let’s go.”

They said their goodbyes, Merlin getting distracted a couple times talking to Percival and Gwaine, but finally Arthur managed to herd him out the door, his hand at the small of Merlin’s back. 

“Wanna walk?” Arthur asked as they got down to the kerb.

The summer air was pleasant and Merlin wasn’t quite ready to let go of the night, so he said, “Sure.”

Arthur reached out for Merlin’s hand – the big sap – and they set off towards Arthur’s flat, which was a half an hour walk from Lance and Gwen’s. Merlin swung their hands between their bodies, humming a little under his breath and looking up at the sky. The light pollution made it so he couldn’t actually see any of the stars in the night sky, but he knew they were there, and that was enough.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Arthur broke it. “So, uh.” Arthur’s nervous tone drew Merlin out of his reverie. “I was thinking.”

“Oh, I was wondering where all that smoke was coming from,” Merlin said, unable to resist the easy opening.

“Shut up.” Arthur knocked him with his shoulder, and then used their clasped hands to draw him back in. “So I know that you’ve been looking for a place to live next year. And well. My place is pretty big. So, I was wondering if you wanted to.” He shrugged, cheeks pink. “You know.”

“Move in with you?” Merlin planted his feet and stopped them. Arthur jerked to a stop half a step ahead of him and turned to face him. Merlin’s mind was whirling. “You don’t...you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No, not really.” Arthur was full-on blushing now. “I mean, I don’t really see this relationship ending, and you spend more nights at my place than your own, so might as well.”

Merlin felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord, and Arthur turned even redder and started to look a little panicky. This strangely had a calming effect on Merlin’s own racing heart, even as he felt that his insides would burst with happiness. He hadn’t said anything, because their relationship still felt so new in many ways, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been thinking the same thing.

“You don’t see our relationship ending?” Merlin let the smile that had been threatening to bloom stretch across his face. “You already planning our wedding, Pendragon? You know it’s only been two months, right?”

Arthur sputtered, “Two and a half, actually – ”

And that was the final straw, because Arthur was apparently keeping track of exactly how many days that they’d been together, and Merlin was suddenly unable to contain his joy anymore. He threw his arms around Arthur, cutting him off. Arthur staggered back, his arms automatically lifting to catch Merlin.

“Yes,” Merlin said into Arthur’s ear. “Yes, yes, yes. I want to move in with you.”

He drew his head back to see Arthur’s beautiful grin, and he couldn’t stop himself from dropping kisses all over Arthur’s face – his nose, his cheeks, even his eyelids when he scrunched his eyes closed. Laughing breathlessly under the onslaught, Arthur tilted his head and their lips finally met and then they were kissing passionately and shamelessly under the glow of the nearby streetlight.

“We’re going to have to get some new furniture though,” Merlin said when they finally broke apart. “And a better mattress for the bed.”

“Yes, dear,” Arthur said in a long-suffering tone of voice, but Merlin caught his smile before Arthur pulled Merlin’s hand up to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Let’s go home,” Merlin said, and felt giddy at the words. Arthur must have felt the same way, because he jerked Merlin forward and pressed one last hard kiss to his lips before drawing back, letting his hand rest briefly on Merlin’s cheek before sliding it down to recapture his hand.

As they set off, Merlin was suddenly reminded of their first meeting, and smiled at the thought that _that_ Merlin would have called you ten shades of crazy if you had told him where he and Arthur would end up. He felt unbelievably glad that he had accompanied Lance to the field that day, even if his and Arthur’s initial meeting (and the next five or six) had been anything but amiable. His and Arthur’s relationship may not have been easy, but loving Arthur had ended up being the easiest thing he ever did. 

Neither of them said much as they made their way back to the flat, but traded giddy looks and smiles every so often, every bit the lovestruck couple their friends claimed they were. Their relationship had so often been characterised by noise – from arguments to laughter to love declarations – but tonight a contented quiet seemed to settle over them, the kind of quiet that arose from the awe of suddenly having everything you could ever want when you had spent most of your life thinking it was impossible. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so it didn't technically take all ten conversations to fall in love, but hopefully you can forgive me. Thank you for reading!


End file.
